It’s the fourth annual International Fisting Day (well, it is in the US – it was yesterday in New Zealand), and I’ve had some amazing fisting experiences this year – so now seems like a great opportunity to share them. This year has been all about give and take, and when it comes to hands in *cough* new places, that’s never been more true!

January

Take yourself back to the very first day of 2014. Do you remember what you were doing?

For me fisting is one of the hottest, more intimate, sexual acts out there. To trust a partner enough to relax, to open wide, to envelop them within you – to cradle them tight and deep and incredibly slickly – is an act of such mindfulness that I have done it with very few people.

Fisting isn’t quite as it sounds (any more than a blow-job is!) – but the name puts many people off trying it. I think that’s a shame, because the sensations – both as the fistee and the fister – are amazing.

Oh, Sodom was real. But you needed to know the right people. Not the ‘popular’ people, or the ‘in’ crowd – that wasn’t the way to this back entrance, for they had no idea this place was anything more than a legend (not that it stopped them dropping the name). To get an invitation to Sodom required a very different journey indeed …

**

It began, for Ayn, with a date. Not that she knew at the time that this date would be the one that would change her life, of course. You always hope that there’ll be a spark, or something exciting, but who knew that meeting Yvonne in that everyday, sunshiney cafe would be the thing that started it all?

It’s been two weeks today since I took my last painkiller. Technically I am still allowed to take some – I could have taken up to four last week, and up until Sunday this week I am able to take three – but I haven’t needed to.

The last painkillers I took were on my flight over to Melbourne. I haven’t taken any since. This is a HUGE thing. Because remember that chronic, daily, never-goes-away-ever migraine? The one I’ve had for over six years? I take painkillers for that.

I love being fisted. It doesn’t happen too often – it takes a long time, a lot of lubricant, and a very persuasive hand – but the sensation of being filled beyond full, where every flex and movement and stretch of muscle translates itself across my body, is delicious.

I have only ever been fisted successfully by Apollo. Which is not so say I haven’t had a lot of fun trying with other partners! Hylas with his (comparatively) enormous hands has never gotten past four fingers, but it’s a blast getting that even that far. Apollo, though, has hands smaller than my own – and that means sometimes we’ll come home from work on a warm Friday afternoon, slide out of our clothes, and relax on the bed with our end-of-week Gin and Tonics and our delight in each other. Those afternoons are our Fisting Dates.

About Dee

I am an exhibitionist with my words, my skin and my sexy times. Free with kisses, compliments, and friendship. Open with my heart, passions, and laughter.
Labels I've chosen for myself (subject to change): pansexual, polyamorous, fat, kinky, kiwi, writer.
You can keep my partners and close friends not-mixed-up by reading more about them here.

If you want to get in touch, send me an email: dee @ curvaceousdee . com .

Please note that while I do the occasional book or product review, I do not accept guest posts or advertising.